


To Praise the Lord with Feast and Song

by mithrel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blanket Permission, M/M, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-23
Updated: 2009-11-23
Packaged: 2017-11-12 09:15:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/489237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/pseuds/mithrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys spend Thanksgiving at Bobby’s.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Praise the Lord with Feast and Song

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [first challenge](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_ficsandfood/329.html) over at [](http://spn-ficsandfood.livejournal.com/profile)[**spn_ficsandfood**](http://spn-ficsandfood.livejournal.com/). Prompt was Post-Apocafixed, and everyone's happy that Castiel is hanging around. The Winchesters have a Thanksgiving meal, with actual reasons to be thankful! After this latest episode I'm hoping for Sam/Castiel, but I'm down with pretty much anything.

So once in every year we throng  
Upon a day apart,  
To praise the Lord with feast and song  
In thankfulness of heart.  
~Arthur Guiterman, _The First Thanksgiving_

Thanksgiving. It was weird, Sam thought, he'd never really thought about it before. The closest thing he’d had to a “real” Thanksgiving was at Stanford, when Jess dragged him over to her parents’ house, and he listened to her brother talk about his small business while Jess’ aunt told him to “Eat, you’re too skinny, honestly Jess, don’t you _feed_ him?”

It had been nice. After he went off with Dean he didn’t really have much to be thankful for…not that he didn’t love Dean and all, but their life was insane. Besides, living in motels they couldn’t exactly make Thanksgiving dinner. They might have something at the diners, but really it was just another day.

Not this year. It was more than a year since he started the Apocalypse, more than a month since he, Dean and Cas had stopped it. Bobby had more-or-less ordered them to show up at his house, and none of them had objected.

So now Bobby was puttering around the kitchen, while Dean slunk around trying to steal food. Sam was sitting at the table, with Cas next to him.

They all had things to be thankful for. Sam was thankful he hadn’t managed to doom the world. Bobby was thankful he was walking again. Dean, at this point, was probably mostly thankful for the food. And Cas…

Well, Sam wasn’t sure what Cas was thankful for, but there was certainly something. He didn’t know why he was still hanging around, but he was glad of it. He knew Dean would miss Cas if he left, for all that he bitched about the way he poofed in and out.

“I don’t understand this holiday,” Cas said suddenly.

Sam shrugged. “It’s a time for giving thanks, counting your blessings.”

“Shouldn’t you do that every day?”

Sam smiled. “I guess so. The holiday came out of a combination of legend and history.”

Cas looked curious, so Sam continued. “Back in the 1600s the Puritans were looking for a place where they could practice their religion in peace. They left England, stayed in the Netherlands for awhile, then eventually sailed to America on the _Mayflower_. Most stories say they landed at Plymouth Rock in Massachusetts, but actually they landed near Provincetown and moved to Plymouth.”

He paused a moment, trying to remember the rest of the story. “They landed in December of 1620, not a good time to start a new colony. By the end of the winter, they’d lost nearly half the colonists. But the harvest the next year was good. There were Native Americans who’d helped them survive the first year, and they invited them to a feast, supposedly to give thanks, although it was more of a harvest festival.”

“So now people commemorate this?” Cas asked.

Sam nodded. “Yeah, although some of the traditions sprang out of nowhere. Like we have turkey, since the Pilgrims had it at the first Thanksgiving, but the Pilgrims called any wild fowl ‘turkey.’ In fact, most of the things we eat now probably weren’t at that feast.”

“Don’t forget the politically-incorrect Pilgrim and Indian figures and the traced hand turkeys,” Dean reminded him with a grin.

Sam grinned back. “Yeah, that too. So really at this point it’s one of those things that’s more fiction than fact, but people still do it.”

Cas was quiet for a moment, then nodded. “It’s a nice tradition.”

“You gonna sit around jawin’ all day or you gonna help?” Bobby demanded.

Sam got up from the table. “What do you need?”

Bobby slapped Dean’s hand away from a casserole. Dean yelped and glared at him. “Hey!”

“Leave it alone!” Bobby opened the oven and put the turkey in. “That’ll need to cook for a few hours. I’ve got most of the stuff prepared, but I still need to make the pie.”

Dean’s face lit up. “Pie?”

“Nuh- _uh,_ ” Bobby said, shaking his head. “ _You_ go set the table!”

“Why can’t I make the pie?” Dean whined.

“Because if you make it, it’ll be eaten before it’s baked!” Sam said.

Dean dug out the plates, grumbling about cruel and unusual punishment.

Bobby handed Sam a piece of paper. “I’ve got enough ingredients for two pies; hopefully that’ll be enough.”

Sam shook his head, grinning. “With Dean around I dunno.”

Bobby grinned back as Dean glared at Sam. “Here’s the recipe,” he continued. “I’m gonna go take a break.”

Sam nodded. “OK.” He scanned the recipe, and began digging out the ingredients. It seemed simple enough. “Cas, you wanna help?”

“I’m not sure what to do.”

Sam shrugged. “Just follow the recipe. We can each make a pie.” He moved over to the second oven and preheated it, then got out a couple mixing bowls.

Cas came over, surveying the ingredients scattered around: salt, sugar, eggs, butter, corn syrup, spices, walnuts and raisins. “What do I do?”

“Start mixing things together,” Sam said, taking an egg and cracking it into the bowl. Cas imitated him, getting a bit of shell in the bowl. Sam handed him a fork to fish it out, and cracked two more eggs into his bowl. Cas managed to crack the other eggs cleanly.

He found a half-teaspoon measuring spoon, and measured out salt, adding it to the bowl and stirring it, then handing the spoon to Cas.

Cas carefully poured the salt into the teaspoon, then stirred it into the bowl.

 _Let’s see,_ Sam thought looking at the recipe. _Sugar, melted butter and corn syrup._

He looked at the butter, trying to figure out how he’d get two thirds of a cup. He ended up putting one stick of butter in a bowl and estimating two tablespoons, then sticking the bowl in the microwave to melt it.

In the meantime he poured out a cup of corn syrup and added it to the bowl, scraping it out and stirring it in. He set the cup aside and Cas took it, adding corn syrup to his bowl.

By that time the butter was melted and Sam poured half of it into a cup, making sure he had enough. Cas took the other half.

He spent awhile stirring everything in. Cas took the recipe and measured out the sugar, adding it to his bowl, then Sam’s.

Sam grinned at him. “Thanks.”

Cas nodded and picked up the half-teaspoon again. He measured out the cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg, and dumped them one by one in the bowl, the look of fierce concentration on his face oddly endearing.

Sam took the spoon and measured out his own ingredients.

He took out the crusts and put them in the dishes, since it was tricky. Cas added the walnuts and raisins to both pies and stirred them until they were blended.

Dean had been in and out of the kitchen while they were working with silverware and plates, but so far he’d been behaving. Now he took a spoon and dipped it into one of the bowls.

And yelped, as there was a flash of light and a _pop._ He pulled back, sucking his fingers. “Dammit!”

Cas looked at him sternly. “Off-limits.”

“Man, this isn’t fair!” Dean said, as Sam snickered. He’d forgotten that Cas had his powers back.

“Careful, Dean. Next time he might smite you,” Sam grinned.

“I don’t have to take this,” Dean muttered and stalked off.

Cas moved to go after him, but Sam held him back. “Let him go, he’ll cool off. Besides, he won’t miss dinner.”

Sam poured the bowls into the crusts, and Cas held open the oven. After the pies were baking, Sam licked his spoon, scraping the rest of the batter out of the bowl.

“Aren’t you gonna lick the bowl?” he asked Cas.

Cas took his spoon and licked it off, then said, “I think I will take this to Dean.”

Sam grinned. “Good idea.”

***

A few hours later the turkey was ready, the pies were sitting on the counter and the table was filled with food. Besides the turkey, there was green bean casserole, cranberry sauce, mashed and sweet potatoes, corn on the cob, stuffing and warm rolls with butter. Sam grabbed some of everything before Dean took it all.

Before they started eating, Castiel asked, “Should we say grace?”

Sam coughed, and Dean’s eyes darted around the table. Bobby shrugged, and finally Dean said, “Why not? Go ahead, Cas.”

Castiel bowed his head and said quietly, “Father, we thank you that the world is safe, and that we are able to gather here together and share in Your bounty. Amen.”

Dean grinned. “Short and sweet. I like it.”

After that they concentrated on eating, until Sam thought of something and looked up. “How long are you going to be sticking around, Cas? I mean, we’re glad to have you, but don’t you have other things to do?”

Castiel shook his head. “I will be here indefinitely. Anna is of the opinion that you two ‘need looking after,’ although I got the impression that she was mainly concerned about Dean.”

“Hey,” Dean protested with his mouth full. “I c’n t’k c’r o’ m’se’f!”

Only long familiarity with Dean enabled Sam to decipher that. “No one’s saying you can’t take care of yourself, Dean. But an angel watching our backs will be handy.”

Dean nodded, swallowing. “Guess so. And I’ve gotten used to him.”

Sam hid a smile, sharing a conspiratorial look with Cas. Both of them knew what that meant.

“Who wants the giblets?” Bobby asked suddenly.

Sam shuddered. “Not me!”

“What are giblets?” Cas asked.

“Believe me, you don’t want to know!”

“Hey, if you don’t want ‘em, I’ll take ‘em,” Dean said, tearing into the gizzard Bobby handed him. Sam shuddered again.

Sam finished eating and leaned back. Dean was already reaching for seconds…or maybe thirds, Sam hadn’t been paying attention.

“It was a good dinner Bobby, thanks,” Sam said.

“Yes, thank you Bobby,” Castiel agreed.

“Yeah,” Dean said.

Bobby waved the praise aside. “Whatever. I enjoy cooking.” He got up from the table to bring the pies over and Castiel got up to help him.

Dean finally finished eating and looked up. His eyes lit as Bobby cut the first pie and handed around slices.

Bobby took a bite, and raised his eyebrows, nodding. “Good job with the pie, boys.”

“Thanks,” Sam said, trying his own slice. It really _was_ good pie.

“Thank you, Bobby,” Cas agreed, trying the pie. “You’re right, this is excellent.”

Dean didn’t say anything, but the expression of bliss on his face spoke volumes.

Between the four of them they finished the first pie and made a dent in the second before even Dean had had enough.

“I’ll help clean up,” Sam volunteered.

“Yeah,” Dean said, surprising him. “You cooked most of it, Bobby, you shouldn’t have to clean up.”

Cas got up from the table as well. Sam put away the leftovers while Cas and Dean scraped the plates and put them in the dishwasher. Dean caught sight of something on the counter and picked it up. “Wishbone.”

“Huh,” Sam said. “You want to?”

Dean shook his head. “Nah.”

“Cas? You wanna break the wishbone?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Two people take hold of the wishbone and pull it, and whoever gets the bigger piece when it breaks gets a wish,” Dean explained.

Cas looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded. “Very well.”

Dean handed him the wishbone and Sam took the other end of it. “Make a wish, Cas.”

As they pulled, Sam wondered what an angel would have to wish for. He knew what _he_ wanted, not that he’d get it, but…

The bone splintered, and Cas was left with the head. Sam smiled. “Looks like you get your wish.”

Cas shook his head. “It’s just a superstition.”

Sam shrugged. “Yeah, so? It’s traditional.”

“I will never understand some of your traditions.”

“Yeah? Like what?” Dean asked.

“Your propensity to overindulge in alcohol as a celebration,” Cas said immediately.

Sam snorted. “Yeah, well alcohol doesn’t affect you anyway.”

“Which makes it even more pointless.”

“Every time I think there’s hope for you…” Dean sighed. “I’m gonna hit the sack.”

Sam nodded. It was still early, but all the food he’d eaten was catching up with him too. “Yeah, I’ll be up in a sec.”

When Dean had left Cas looked at him intently. That was nothing new, and although the looks were no longer disapproving, they still made Sam uncomfortable, as if Cas could see what he was thinking. “What?”

Cas held up the wishbone. “Do you believe in this?”

Sam shrugged. “Not really. It’s just something you do. Why, what’d you wish for?”

Cas looked away suddenly. “It is not important.”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry,” Sam said. “I just can’t think of anything an angel would need to wish for.”

Cas nodded, then abruptly stepped close to him. Sam had to force himself not to step back. Dean had finally drilled the concept of personal space into him, and he wondered what was going on. Then Cas was leaning forward and pressing his lips to Sam’s softly, before pulling back.

Sam’s mouth opened and shut a few times before he managed, “What?”

“You asked what I wished for,” Castiel said softly.

“But…but…Dean,” Sam sputtered.

Cas’ brow furrowed. “What about him?”

“Well, aren’t you two…I mean…” Sam made some vague motions that he hoped Cas would get.

Cas barked out a laugh. “No. Why would you think that?”

“Well, I…I dunno….” And he really _didn’t_ know why he’d assumed Cas and Dean were together, but… “Wait a minute! You wished for…”

Cas nodded. “I did.”

Sam grinned suddenly. “Then I guess it doesn’t matter that I lost,” he said and leaned in to kiss Cas again.

** Recipe: Walnut Raisin Pie **

**Ingredients:**

* 3 eggs  
* 2/3 cup white sugar  
* 1/2 teaspoon salt  
* 1/3 cup butter, melted  
* 1 cup dark corn syrup  
* 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon  
* 1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg  
* 1/2 teaspoon ground cloves  
* 1/2 cup chopped walnuts  
* 1/2 cup raisins  
* 1 (9 inch) unbaked pie crust

**Directions:**

1\. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F (190 degrees C).  
2\. In a large bowl, beat eggs, sugar, salt, melted butter and corn syrup. add the cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves. Stir in nuts and raisins. Pour into 9 inch pastry.  
3\. Bake in the preheated oven for 40 to 50 minutes, or until set, and pastry is golden brown. Serve cool or slightly warmed.

Serves 8.

From [here](http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Walnut-Raisin-Pie/Detail.aspx)


End file.
